Basophobia
by sorcerousfang
Summary: The trip through Doctor Strange's portal does not end quite so amusingly. If there is one thing Loki is most afraid of, it is falling.


"I suppose we'll need my brother back."

"Oh, yeah, right."

Thor would be lying a great deal to himself if he thought the tone of reluctance in his words was for show. He had lived several years now with the thought of Loki being dead; having him back so suddenly and finding his father had been absent from the throne was still jarring, and while his brother actually being alive was nice, the circumstances left him feeling less than pleased. He could do with not having to look him in the face for a bit longer.

Strange waved his hands until an orange line of magic appeared in the air, swirling around itself to form a ring that opened wide. A moment later, and Loki fell from it, hitting the floor with a solid _thunk_. Thor's mouth quirked in a derisively satisfied smirk at the sound.

The expression fell when his brother pushed himself up on his arms and heaved the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

"Loki?"

Strange made a disgusted sound as Thor moved to Loki and knelt beside him. The proximity made him aware of how much he was trembling, and his mixed emotions skidded to a halt as worry consumed him instead, his hands immediately reaching out to steady his brother. Loki started badly at his touch, taking in a sharp breath that sounded more like a wheeze among the shorter gasps he was managing.

"Brother, what's wrong?" Thor tried. Loki appeared to try to swat him away, but then his fingers, clammy with sweat, closed around his wrist in a grip Thor found concerning. His brother's eyes were wide with fear and wet with tears. He shot Strange a worried look, because he hadn't seen Loki in this way since they were children, but found the sorcerer wearing a confused expression. The portal to Odin's location fizzled out beside him. "I'm here, Loki," he said instead, turning his attention back to him. "Tell me what's wrong. How can I help?"

He received no more an answer than Loki trying to push away from the pile of sick, so Thor helped him maneuver until he was sitting, though it appeared that he could not hold himself up, leaning heavily into Thor's arms. Loki would not look at him, continuing to shake and breathe as though Mjolnir sat on his chest, his grip the only thing about him that remained strong.

"What have you done to him?" he demanded of the sorcerer, who showed him his palms in a gesture of placation. Thor tried to school the anger he realized was in his tone, and likely showing in his expression.

"I swear to you, it wasn't my intention to send him into a panic attack," he replied, eyes traveling over his brother in a scrutinizing manner.

"Panic attack…?" Thor found the term strange, but he had heard it before. An overheard conversation between Stark and Banner, when in the midst of studying the scepter Loki once held, Stark stumbled out of the room with Banner on his heels. _Just a panic attack_, their friend had said. _Give me a minute._

"Vomiting, hyperventilation, weakness, likely increased heart rate and blood pressure – fairly classic signs of high anxiety. We typically call them panic or anxiety attacks," the sorcerer explained, and Thor wondered if the doctor's title applied to medicine as well as magic. "Something may have triggered it, like something he's abnormally afraid of, or it could have come on at random. I sent him falling through a pocket dimension; he literally hasn't made contact with anything for the last half hour, so…."

Strange trailed off in thought. Thor couldn't think of _anything_ his brother could be so afraid of that he would be reduced to this. Loki may do battle with small knives and tricks, but it was never out of fear, simply a strategic approach that Thor and their friends found boring and underhanded when displayed. They may have accused him of fear, but Thor knew better these days. He knew many things much better in the years since Loki's…

_Fall._

Falling. Strange said he sent him falling, contact with nothing, falling through space, _a void_-

"Oh, Norns, Brother," Thor said in realization, pulling him into an embrace that made every tremor echo through his chest. "You're not falling anymore. I'm here."

Loki's fingers dug into his coat, clinging to him as though he might disappear.

Strange's apology was not unheard, but it was ignored as Thor spoke nonsense to his brother about his travels across the realms, about how he took a page from Loki's book in allowing Surtur to capture him, and then his thoughts about the end of that dreadful play he returned to. He finally received a huff of a breath he figured was a laugh more than anything,

"Tell me you did not direct that, brother," Thor chuckled. "You tell better stories than most. Those were far from the words of a tale by Loki."

"…Commissioned," he admitted quietly, and then followed, "Let me go, Thor. This is embarrassing."

"No more embarrassing than that play," he replied with a laugh, but allowed his brother to leave his embrace nonetheless. Loki looked pale, but otherwise calm, and was quickly standing. Thor followed after him. "The actor playing me hardly _looked_ the part, though I imagine that was entirely intentional, along with the reminder of the time you turned me into a _frog_. I croaked for _weeks_. Everyone laughed at me."

Loki did not hide his smirk well.

Forgotten beside them, Strange cleared his throat, awkwardness apparent in his expression.

"I _do_ apologize for my shortsightedness regarding my, uh, threat containment method," the sorcerer said, his gaze directed at Loki, whose expression turned sour quickly.

"Do not let the outcome of your petty trick lure you into a false sense of superiority," Loki hissed. "I assure you, between the two of us, my skill with magic _far_ exceeds yours."

Thor did not doubt that, but he was beginning to worry that the situation may devolve into violence now that Loki had his wits about him enough to be angry that the man had witnessed a weakness of his mind. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder in an attempt to calm him, or hold him back should the need arise.

"I'm feeling less sincere in my apology the more you speak," Strange replied with a frown. "Let's get back to the matter of Odin before this becomes an unnecessary contest of skills. Thor, I'll need another strand of your hair."

Alarmed, Thor immediately reminded him that his hair was _not_ to be messed with, but Strange plucked one from his head once more, completely ignoring his complaints. Loki's brows nit in poorly disguised curiosity as Strange wove his spell for a second time.

"Do not forget our agreement."

With that notice, the sorcerer flung the glowing circle at the two of them, and the tile floor gave way to grass beneath their feet.

.

.

.

.

.

Thor watched Loki thrown from the Bifrost's path mere minutes later, and even as he tried to prevent Hela from sending him to the same fate, his mind remained filled with worry that someone would not be there to for him in the aftermath.

He prayed that his fall remained short.

_I'm sorry, Brother._

**I don't imagine falling is particularly pleasant for Loki. While I love the way the scene plays out in Ragnarok, I always thought there were a lot of other ways it could have gone, and this ended up being the one I wrote out.**

**This was mostly done because I'm procrastinating on rewriting _Lessons. _Writing other Loki stories is only helping me to breed more plot bunnies, however, so I'll have to file it away as a failed avenue of productivity. At least something publishable came out of it.**

**Stay awesome.**

**-SF**


End file.
